The Patron Saint Of Sucking Cock
by DevilishDarling
Summary: Sylvi carries the most important task in the realm upon her shoulders, ensuring the king is woken and ready to rule. One might assume that the job was relatively easy, however where the former prince of mischief and current ruler of Asgard is concerned, nothing is ever that simple. By King Loki's royal decree, she is required to wake him every morning by sucking him to completion.
1. Loki's Patron Saint

_This is a 3 chapter mini story that has been complete since June 2019 and was inspired by the Cigarettes After Sex song called "Young & Dumb". _

_In addition, this was the first piece of creative writing i ever wrote, it was originally posted on Archive of Our own. (Where i prefer to post my works, but they have done well there and i have since decided to add them here as well)._

_Im still trying to figure out formatting on this website... I hope it's not confusing for you guys to read. _

_The editing was done by the_ **AMAZING** _WrathKitty, who has her own stories both here and on Ao3 under the same name. _

I seriously hope you enjoy this, and please don't hesitate to leave a review, they not only mean the world to me but also determine whether or not i'll continue uploading future works onto this website. :)

* * *

They called her Loki's patron saint.

Sylvi had one responsibility and it was considered by all to be the most important responsibility in the realm: Waking the Allfather every morning.

As with all things concerning the dark king, of course, this duty did not come with ease; it was the most important responsibility for a reason, after all, and a good reason at that – for King Loki was not a morning person.

Opening the curtains and allowing the sunlight into his chamber would only anger him; giving him a gentle shake and calling his name would result in grave punishment; any Midgardian "alarm clocks" wound up smashed into smithereens; and any soul brave enough to waltz into the king's quarters and demand he greet the day would likely never be seen again. (Though that was just a theory, as no one had ever dared to try it.)

As a result of Loki's hatred of being awoken by traditional means, he decreed that he would be awoken every morning by having his cock sucked. So, Sylvi got up at dawn every single day with the sole purpose of fellating the king until he was awake, fully sated and ready to rule Asgard.

She was proud of both her responsibility and her ability to make the king come every morning without fail. What better way to start her day than listening to the exquisite moans that left Loki's throat when she used lip, tongue and teeth to bring him to completion? The cherry on top was the fact that after her morning duty was done, she could do whatever she pleased. The downside, of course, was that his strangled moans and primal grunts left her wet and wanting for hours after her daybreak encounters with him. Midmornings generally found Sylvi in her room, pleasuring herself to the memory of the king falling apart because of her ministrations.

Due to the essential nature of her job, Sylvi's room adjoined the king's chambers, which also eased some of the burden of her job, as she did not have to trek from the servants' quarters to his quarters every morning. Instead, she simply had to open the door and enter his room. Loki's bedroom was regal to say the least, a four-poster canopy bed of solid gold up against the wall opposite the floor to ceiling balcony doors which currently had dark green velvet curtains drawn across to keep out the sunlight while the king slept. The rest of the walls in the room were bookshelves, including the sliding doors which lead to the rest of Loki's rooms.

As soon as she crossed the threshold, she would crawl up onto the majestic bed and seat herself between his knees. Loki slept on his back, arms flung out and legs sprawled, looking less like a king, and more like one of those useless star-shaped creatures of Midgard, not to mention also naked as the day he was born – a small mercy, as Sylvi could not imagine having to wrestle him out of his sleeping pants in addition to the already-strenuous task of attempting to take every last inch of him into her throat.

Once she was positioned, and the bedsheet tugged aside to reveal a cock truly fit for a god and king, Sylvi would get to work. Gripping his member, she licked and suckled the tip until he was harder than any marble sculpture in the gardens, and thicker and heavier than the metal chisels used to carve them. When Loki let out a deep sigh in his sleep, she slowly took him further into her mouth and started sucking harder.

Loki moaned and drowsily thrusted into her mouth, she moaned around his length, the vibration causing him to rouse fully from his sleep and reach down to fist a handful of her hair. She moaned a second time, provoking him to take control and start feeding her the rest of his cock.

"You will take every inch your king has to offer."

He made sure she felt each inch, every vein of his glorious length as he moved her up and down his shaft at his desired pace, roughly fucking her throat and savouring the little whimpers, grunts, moans and gagging sounds she was making.

Sylvi relaxed her throat as much as she could and let him do as he pleased, his fingers tightening in her silky locks as his moans began to fill and echo throughout chamber. He was getting close; she could tell by the way he was losing more and more control of himself, his grip on her hair growing erratic and threatening to pull out strands, his other hand clenched in a tight fist around the sheets, hips thrusting with varied force, face set in an expression that screamed of painful pleasure.

Grunting a barely intelligible, "Swallow every last drop," the king let out a wild cry before his seed shot down her throat. Sylvi dutifully obeying his command gulped down all he had to offer before easing him out of her lush, hot mouth and then licking him clean.

As Loki lay spent and desperately trying to regain his composure, she took the opportunity to gaze upon his godlike features. The hand that earlier had been fisting the blanket like it had a vendetta against it was now thrown across his eyes. His other hand remained where it was, brutally fisted in her silky locks with only the slightest decrease in the firmness of his grip.

As soon as Loki had control of himself once more he sat up and faced Sylvi, using the firm hold he had on her, he tilted her head back in order for their eyes to meet and remarked: "You truly are the patron saint of sucking cock. Perhaps tomorrow I shall have you suck me in a position where I can enjoy watching my cock press against the fragile skin of your throat."

"I am yours to command, my king," she replied, sincerely hoping he would do just that. The mental image of her king towering above her while he fucked her face was almost too much to bear, had they been lovers and were this more than just her morning duty she would have demanded that after fucking her face he then fuck her into the mattress as well.

"That you are. Your job is done for today. Dismissed," he said as he stood up and sauntered his way to the bathroom, barely sparing her another glance.

Sylvi climbed off the bed, straightened her dress and made her way back to her bedroom, not bothering to conceal her excitement for the morning to come.


	2. Eyes Wide, Tongues Tied

Loki had never been one to slack in his duties as sovereign. Yet now, sitting upon his golden throne, in his golden throne room, with his golden horns atop his head, he was bored senseless and decidedly _not_ listening to the citizen standing before him, who at present was rambling on about his wife having run off with the stable hand. The simpleton had the audacity to demand the king send out a search party to retrieve her – as if the most powerful being in all the Realms concerned himself with wandering wives and wagon-headed husbands.

His mind kept drifting back to earlier that morning, when he had done as he said he would: Enjoyed Sylvi's talented tongue from a position that also afforded him a view sweeter than Valhalla – the outline of his cock as it pushed deep into her throat and stretched the delicate flesh of her neck with every thrust.

When she had entered his chamber at daybreak, he had been ready, cock painfully stiff, leaking, and desperate for her to suck him dry. The poor girl had stood frozen in place, just past the threshold, with no idea what to do next. Loki had never once been already awake upon her arrival.

"What are you waiting for?" he demanded, standing up and nodding his head in the direction of the bed. "On your back, head over the side," he said briskly, feigning indifference.

Much to Loki's delight, Sylvi didn't hesitate, and obediently marched over to the bed and assumed the position as she'd been told.

Being who he was, he could not resist the temptation to take it all one step further, and conjured a dagger out of thin air. In one swift motion, he sliced her bodice open from top to bottom, equally relishing her startled smile and the sight of her breasts spilling gloriously free of their constraints.

He ogled her well-developed breasts, barely concealing his need for more and fighting an inner war he knew he was destined to lose.

Her nipples were delectable - the color of coral, soft as velvet yet harder than the stones on the riverbanks that he would collect as a youngster. He tugged them, causing her to let out a low, shuddering moan.

"You have been hiding these lovely globes from me, sweet one" he observed, smirking at her reaction to his touch, "Perhaps a punishment is in order."

Sylvi failed to repress the lust driven cry that escaped from her throat at his threat, and scrambled to apologize, both for hiding her breasts from his view and for uttering such wanton sounds while in his presence. Hasty words of contrition fell from her lips, but she spoke from a place of respect, not fear. She was his servant, he was her king, and so apologies were required.

No, she did not fear the king; she feared her desire for the king, and the unrelenting hunger that was beginning to consume her the longer his eyes raked over her body.

"Perhaps another time, then. For now, however," he leered, "there are more important matters at hand."

Gripping his iron-hard cock, he stroked it twice from hilt to tip before bringing it to her lips, savoring the soft wetness of her mouth as she enveloped him.

"Y-Your Majesty?"

Loki was rudely ripped out of his reverie by the irritating voice of the man he had already forgotten about.

"No," he barked. "I will not send a search party to retrieve your wife. Your marital problems are none of my concern, I am your king, not a counsellor! Get out of my sight."

He disinterestedly watched the man retreat, his mind returning to his precious Sylvi.

Loathe as he was to admit it, watching Sylvi writhe and whimper while he fucked her throat and ravished her breasts had brought him to a startling realization:

He wanted more.

Specifically, he wanted more of her, _all_ of her. He was desperate to claim her cunt and mark it with his seed; he yearned to kiss her plump, luscious lips and suckle her coral-tipped breasts – Gods, he even longed to pleasure her! To reverse the roles, and lick and suck her relentlessly until she was screaming his name for all of Asgard to hear. She was a far cry from the witless, gossiping courtiers and the whores who had sated his darker desires in the past.

Moreover, he was certain that her juices would taste like liquid sin…

That enticing thought only reaffirmed his suspicions: someday soon he would yield to temptation and the sweet little vixen would be his destruction.

* * *

Fourteen days had passed since the morning Loki had deviated from the usual routine._ Fourteen agonising days _in which he failed to stop noticing and _appreciating _little quirks, mannerisms and traits of Sylvi's. Now, he sat in his study, sipping from a chalice of wine and barely paying attention to the book on Midgardian Literature that lay in his lap. Instead, he was reminiscing about moments they had shared and traits of hers that he had come to admire.

The fact that she did not shy from making eye contact with him was one of the very first things that had caught his attention. In all his years, Loki had only met a handful of individuals who could lock eyes with him for longer than just a moment or two.

On the fifth day he had stumbled upon her under a vine embowered gazebo in the gardens, reading. He took great delight in discovering she shared his love for knowledge and appreciation for books, so, he had offered her access to his private collection. Sylvi had graciously accepted, of course, one would never turn down such a an offer from the king.

Then there was her honesty and her wit, the former which Loki was surprised to have found especially appealing, considering he was the God of Lies. She had revealed those traits on the seventh day, when she had paused on her way back to her chamber and remarked: "Your snoring rivals that of a bilgesnipe." She hadn't even addressed him properly, which did not bother him at all, much to his surprise. There was an air of mischief to her tone, but in spite of that, she spoke the truth.

"How insolent of you to say that to your king, little girl; and not even bothering to address me as you should," he had retorted.

"Well, Your _Excellency," _she fired back,_ "_you know what they say: If it can be destroyed by the truth, it _deserves_ to be destroyed by the truth."

The famed silvertongue did not have a reply for that.

Loki's constraint had taken a huge hit on the night of the eleventh day when he had woken from a most sensational dream.

"Fuck me, your majesty," she had said, half request, half command. He was inside her an instant later, thrusting with all his might and all his will as she moaned and whimpered beneath him. He could feel her clenching around his cock, her grip tight enough to evoke a primal growl from him.

"Is this what you wanted, pet?" Not bothering to give her a chance to reply he reached down, taking great pleasure in discovering just how wet she was, his fingers found her clit and rubbed it furiously. "Show me what an obedient little girl you are and come for me," he grunted, pumping harder.

She gasped as her orgasm hit, her pussy gripping his cock and attempting to milk him for all he was worth.

_"__Ah,"_ he groaned, fucking her through her orgasm. "Good girl, once more." Leaning down he whispered in her ear, "You are so responsive, so tight. The heat of your cunt is almost painful."

His words triggered her second climax, this time she came screaming his name loud enough for it to echo throughout the room.

"My turn," he growled before sinking his teeth into her neck, delighting in the little yelp his feral action elicited from her. Spurred on by the stream of moans coming from her mouth, he drove himself to the hilt twice more before his cock pulsed deep inside her, filling her with his essence.

Loki spent the remainder of the night restless and moving uneasily about his chambers. Eventually he settled down on the antique mahogany sofa in the drawing room, stretching his legs out on the cushioned forest green silk, and picked up a book that sat nearby. Angling himself towards the fireplace, he began detachedly thumbing through the book which was titled "Potions and Poisons," eventually drifting off to a fitful slumber. 

Sylvi found him there the next morning, snoring on the lounge, still as the wind before disaster strikes. The only movement was that of his chest, rising and falling rhythmically as he drew in each breath.

Sylvi let her eyes wander, studying the surroundings and the furniture within. The room was not at all like his bedroom. True, it was as regal as any other chamber, but unlike the rest of the palace, there were no glimpses of gold in the décor, no colors that were reminiscent of the sun. Instead the room evoked thoughts of nature – the colours were those of the forest canopy and the blackest ebony wood. Even the rich velvet curtains reminded her of the moss that grew on stones near the shaded riverbanks.

Her gaze returned to the sleeping king, who awoke without warning, eyes springing open and darting around the room before registering her presence. His head turned towards her, and he muttered, "You're staring."

"Forgive me, my king."

Waving his hand dismissively, he stalked his way over to where she stood in the centre of the room. Sylvi dropped to her knees, already foreseeing what was next to come. The days in which he was awake before or immediately upon her arrival had become much more frequent in the past week, always leading to the king playing a more active role in the fulfilment of her morning duty.

Grabbing his shaft, she licked him from base to tip before sucking the head into her mouth, and it was in that moment, as he watched her lips envelop him, that he knew it was over.

Every nerve in his body ignited, electricity tingling under his skin, and from there on, there was nothing but his impending release. Grasping hold of her hair, he pushed her down onto him, ensuring she took him as deep as she could.

He moaned above her, moving her faster over his shaft; she groaned in response, the vibration of her voice sending wave after wave of pleasure through him and setting off his orgasm. His body went rigid and his hold on her hair tightened further as he held her down, coming in spurts that Sylvi dutifully swallowed.

After reaching completion, he roughly yanked her up and onto her feet. Using the painful grip he had on her hair, he brought her to him and kissed her savagely, tasting himself upon her tongue. The kiss was a promise of debauchery, it was untamed and vicious, perfectly fitting to his character.

As soon as it had started it was over; he abruptly wrenched himself away and observed her face for a moment. Sylvi's lips were swollen from the lewd act she had just performed, her eyes were closed and her head was slightly tilted back in order to grant him proper access to her lips.

In a flash of green light, Loki was dressed and storming out of the chambers, leaving Sylvi standing in the middle of the drawing room with no explanation as to what had just happened or why.

Though the king was in no hurry to reach the throne room, his stride said otherwise. Loki knew that were he to stop walking now, he would return to his rooms and finish what he'd started.

* * *

Sylvi's mind was blank. It was a strange occurrence; usually her thoughts were many. Often _too_ many, always hurling through her mind with no consideration as to whether or not she wanted to think at all.

Now there was one lone little thought: That she was stupid.

The moment the king had kissed her, she had let herself believe that he desired her too. She had kissed him back for Norns' sake! What compelled her to do so, she could not say for sure, though she had a sneaking suspicion it could be directly tied to the fact that she yearned for him. Her hunger for him was like a beast in a cave, waiting for an unsuspecting adventurer to seek shelter, only to be devoured whole.

Sylvi was the unsuspecting adventurer, she thought sadly. Loki was the hungry beast.

No, Loki did not want her as she did him. He had kissed her in the heat of the moment, not for any other reasons. He had got that point across very clearly when he had suddenly marched out, leaving her in the middle of his drawing room with wide eyes and zero explanations.

One thing was clear, Loki had changed over the past week.

Sylvi had seen the changes in him, of course; one does not harbour affection for another without noticing the little shifts in their behaviour. But she made the mistake of believing these shifts meant he held her in his affections.

There were _so many _minuscule changes in the way he acted towards her.

For starters, the way he touched her more tenderly during their trysts, raining praises down upon her and even going as far as ensuring he never harmed her in his lust.

Then there was the fact that he had taken to watching her every move when she sucked him, sometimes even insisting she gaze into his eyes while doing so. Those mornings were the ones she cherished most – his eyes were so different on these days, softer and sweeter than she usually knew them to be. The eyes of a burdened king disappeared and the eyes of one who is content took their place.

There was also that morning he had asked her to stay and have breakfast with him. Drawing back the floor-to-ceiling curtains, he had revealed two glass doors that opened to the balcony with a view of the city of Asgard. The balcony was grandiose and held as much splendour as one would expect for a king, and if she had not known better, she would have believed that the armchairs situated in the middle were smaller thrones that had been stolen from the throne room. Much like the furniture in the drawing room, the chairs were a pine green, the table however, was a solid gold, upon closer inspection she discovered that the legs of the table were three brilliantly textured serpents intertwined.

The early morning sun bathed the balcony in gold, however that was not what first caught her eye, that honour was bestowed upon the climbing roses which grew up from the garden below and wrapped around the balcony railings.

"Take a seat," he said while pulling out one of the regal armchairs for her.

It wasn't long after they both were seated that servants arrived carrying trays of food. As they ate, they conversed as if they were equals, and not servant and sovereign. They had spoken of places they'd someday like to visit, books they liked to read, Loki had even told her stories of days long gone.

Sylvi had fond memories of that morning, which had taken place nine days after the king fulfilled his lascivious promise to her. She knew who the king was, she was familiar with his reputation. Thinking that his behavioural changes were anything more than an opportunity for the god of mischief to do what he did best, was pure stupidity on her part. And so she resolved that she would go back to acting professionally and things would return to normal once more.

* * *

Snapping himself out of his thoughts and pouring himself another glass of wine, Loki thought about how far he'd fallen.

He hadn't seen Sylvi for two days, not since the morning he had kissed her and then angrily stormed out of the room. It was not his fault, he decided. It was the dream's fault. When he had woken that morning to find her standing in the middle of his drawing room, he should have sent her away. It was only rational that he would do something reckless, especially since his sleep had been fitful because she had plagued his mind the entire night.

He had avoided her for those two days in a desperate attempt to come to terms with his emotions and by that, he had meant to figure out a way to dispose of them completely. Unfortunately, he could no more turn them off than he could bring down the walls of Eljudnir with naught but a command. Which is why he was sitting in his study, drinking wine and thinking about all the lovely moments they had shared and all the things he liked about her.

After burning through a whole bottle of the strongest Asgardian red he could find, Loki had finally decided on his plan of action. He was done constraining himself. He was sick of not allowing himself to have what he wanted, and what he wanted was Sylvi.

So Sylvi he would have.


	3. The Depth of Desire

_This is the final chapter of this story :) I hope you have all enjoyed it and will leave a review._

_I have another ongoing story which is not yet complete, it's twice as smutty as this. ;) Do check it out. _

* * *

The silvery half-moon seemed to be taunting her. Its treacherous pale light streamed through the window, bathing the room in an ivory glow, serving as a silent and cruel reminder to the passing of another day.

The morning after the day he had kissed her, Sylvi was determined to return to their former relationship – strictly professional. Unfortunately for her, upon entering Loki's rooms she discovered that he wasn't there. Initially she had thought perhaps something important had happened and his attention was called elsewhere.

This theory was disproven the next morning, when it became evident that the king had chosen to sulk in a distinctly unregal manner – by avoiding her.

Sylvi had crossed over the threshold as usual, only to see a flash of his green cloak as he stormed out of the room and into his adjoining study, slamming the door behind him. Once again, she was left standing in the middle of his rooms with not an inkling on what to do next.

At some point during the time she spent glaring at his study door, she had decided that if the king wanted to mope around in such a way, then so be it. She would not endorse such childish behaviour by seeking him out.

Besides, he would probably seek _her_ out by the end of the day.

The king did _not_ seek her out, however, which is exactly how she got to where she was now, scowling at the moon from her bedroom window. In all fairness, she should have known that he wouldn't come to her; she was aware that the king was as unmoving as the rocky mountains of Jotunheim – he never did anything he didn't want to, and certainly not on someone else's terms.

The solitude she has come to resent was abruptly disturbed when the door to her room slammed open, revealing none other than the king. His viridian eyes were narrowed, cold and calculating, his stare keen as a blade and sharp enough to cut right through her.

Drawing in a deep breath, Sylvi slowly took a step in his direction.

"My king? Is something wrong?"

A deep, sensuous growl resonated from his throat before he marched towards her and roughly grabbed her by the hair.

He tilted her head up.

"No more talking," he said before pulling her into a passionate kiss.

Pressing his tongue to the seam of her lips, he demanded access; she granted it without hesitation and allowed him to delve inside her mouth.

Each push of his tongue against her own sent a thrilling pulse through her; moaning into the kiss, Sylvi reached up and tangled her fingers through his silky, black tresses. A silent granting of permission that Loki accepted. His hands ventured over her luscious body, exploring each curve, every line of her splendid form.

Sylvi's already non-existent resistance crumbled even further the moment she felt his hot breath on her neck, followed by the warm brush of his lips. Her hands tightened further in his hair, and she breathed hard into the edge of his curls.

Loki's hand slid around her waist, pulling her flush against his bare chest, his teeth scraping across the delicate skin of her throat and lingering against her jaw.

She expected him to sink his teeth into her neck, and was pleasantly surprised when he gently tugged on her earlobe instead. His wandering hands finally settled on her hips, gripping them tightly and hoisting her up. Sylvi reacted instantly, and wrapped her legs around his slender waist without hesitation.

He chuckled in triumph, murmuring something about her eagerness as he turned and carried her through the still-open door from whence he came, tossing her onto his imposing gold bed once reaching it.

"You suck me so well, sweet one," he purred, "I've wanted to return the favour for quite some time now." His voice was a husky, erotic whisper, "To have you at the mercy of my tongue as you've had me at yours, to lick and suck you until you scream my name and beg for my cock."

"Do it, then," Sylvi challenged.

The gods face lit up with a sinister smirk.

"With pleasure."

With a dramatic flick of his slender fingers, two golden chains connected to the bedpost materialised around Sylvi's wrists, ensuring she stayed where he wanted her.

Another flick of his wrist and her dress was gone, leaving her completely bare and at Loki's mercy. He crawled onto the bed and knelt over her sprawled-out form.

"Spread your legs," he said, eyes glinting with desire.

She obliged without hesitation, giving him what he asked for: A perfect view of her sopping wet cunt.

"Beautiful," he murmurs before lunging straight for her pussy, slowly running the flat of his tongue over her core in one firm stroke, "And just as divine as I'd imagined."

Sylvi whimpered at his words, desperately tugging at the chains binding her wrists, yearning to tangle her fingers in his curls and put his tongue back to work.

As though he could hear her thoughts, he tortured her instead, kissing, nibbling and occasionally licking her inner thigh - so close to where she wanted him and yet still so far away. She could feel his hot breath on her core, his lips mere inches away from where he was needed, and she pled and begged for him to touch her, suck her - _anything_, as long as he did not continue to stand idly stand by and watch her suffer. At last he did what she asked, finally giving her what she craved, licking and sucking at her as if he could devour her entirely.

Her first orgasm washed over her in waves, leaving her a moaning, heaving mess as Loki licked her through it and into her second, then her third. He was unyielding, sucking her with determination, and ignoring her pleas for him to stop, for she could take no more of his sweet torture.

By her fourth release, Sylvi realised that he had no intention of ceasing anytime soon. In a desperate attempt to stop the onslaught of sensation on her sensitive centre, Sylvi tried to squirm away from him and close her legs, but to no avail. Loki merely chuckled and roughly grabbed her behind her knees. He spread her wide, before latching his lips upon her clit, and sucked hard while she thrashed and squirmed beneath him, hopelessly seeking reprieve from the exquisite agony his talented tongue was inflicting upon her.

Finally, his mouth left her, only for his fingers to take its place. He toyed with her dripping cunt for a few moments and then slid into her, filling her up, first one, then two, stretching her, preparing her for what was yet to come. He fucked her hard with them, roughly dragging them across her sweet spot each time he withdrew, then thrusting them back inside, hard, wanting to ensure she felt how deep he was within her. His thumb pressed up against her clit, vigorously rubbing and pinching at it, every movement perfectly timed to the pumping of his digits.

"I can feel your cunt gripping my fingers, little one," he groaned, increasing the pressure of his thumb on her delicate nub, "I know you're close again, despite your pleas for me to stop. You want to come again; _you will _come once more – as your king, I demand it of you."

His words, combined with the rhythmic thrusting of his fingers, set her off. Sylvi came hard, screaming his name loud enough to be heard by anyone within earshot of his chambers.

"Good girl," praised the king, withdrawing his digits and placing them at her lips. "Now, clean them."

Sylvi obediently sucked and licked the glistening digits clean, swirling her tongue and moaning around them as if she were sucking his cock and not the long, elegant fingers that were just deep inside her cunt. This was her vengeance, minor as it was, retaliation for each second of agonising pleasure he had caused her.

Loki's eyes widened in surprise at her minor act of revenge, and then glazed over with lust. It was obvious he had not expected her to behave so wantonly to his command.

The king's reaction gave Sylvi a perverse sort of pleasure, knowing that while she was the one restrained and unable to move, the element of surprise was still on her side. She wasn't completely at his mercy, likewise, a part of him was at hers.

"I'm not done with you yet," he remarked. His baritone voice was smooth and powerful enough to reverberate through Sylvi's bones as she waited for him to make his next move.

She wasn't left waiting long. Loki crawled up her body, situating his hips between her legs and arms on each side of her head, caging her as an Asgardian panther would its prey. Licking and biting as he made his way forward, he paused momentarily to suckle on her taut nipples before he continued upwards and inched his nose closer to where her neck joined her shoulder, breathing in her scent.

"You smell delectable," he whispered, lust evident in his tone, "like the evening breeze as it weaves its way through the golden city. The scent of the sweetest Asgardian wine…it swirls around me, cascades through my bloodstream, simultaneously soothing and maddening – and compels me to fuck you into oblivion. And, I think, that's exactly what I'll do."

He moved without further delay, swiftly unbuckling his trousers, he slid them down his hips to free his cock and gently nudged himself between her lips, coating himself in her slick. Then in a single, mighty stroke, he sheathed himself deep inside her.

Sylvi felt full. Stretched to the brink with the king's glorious shaft. He was as deep as could be; were it possible, she was certain he'd go even deeper.

It was clear to her that restraint was now a foreign concept to him; he had none, and once again, he was making good on his promise.

_Who would have thought that the God of Lies could be true to his word?_

Loki was thrusting into her as if he actually intended to fuck her into nothingness.

Sylvi found she had no qualms with that.

* * *

Loki had never liked the heat. He'd always had an affinity for winter, a connection to chilly air, freezing winds and thick blankets of snow that buried everything in sight.

Sylvi was different. Her cunt - which as far as he was concerned, was hotter than the fire and flames of Muspelheim itself - was a heat he would gladly suffer through.

There had never been a shortage of women interested in warming Loki's bed, of course, and he had indulged an innumerable amount of them, for he was certainly _not_ the God of resisting temptation. But not a single one of them could compare to the searing heat of Sylvi.

His original intent had been to draw out their first fuck for as long as possible, to tease and torment her with his cock, just as he had done with his tongue, until she was nothing more than a moaning, mewling mess. Only then would he proceed to give her the fuck of the century.

Unfortunately, this glorious plan became nothing more than a distant memory the moment he slid into her. From that moment on, all he wanted was to own her completely.

Which is exactly what he proceeded to do.

His cock was spearing her, shoving deeply, repeatedly, ensuring that not a single part of her was left untouched by him. Sylvi rose to meet each and every thrust of his, no matter how hard or brutal they were, and her gasps and moans of complete and utter pleasure said more than words ever could. She was relishing in his claiming of her, enjoying the sensations of absolute ecstasy that he was solely responsible for.

There was certainly no turning back after her fall into oblivion, he was certain of this. Her walls pulsed and gripped his prick like there was no tomorrow, giving him no choice but to let go and follow her into the abyss that was both their climaxes.

* * *

Sylvi had brought herself to completion a great many times. Most of them had been after completing her task of waking the king. She had often fantasied about what it would be like to be fucked by him, how good his perfectly chiseled cock would feel as it slid in and out of her.

The real thing was nothing like her fantasies or any climax she had ever reached on her own.

Coming around Loki's thick girth was an experience unto itself. It was electric, a sensory overload that caused her to shiver, whimper and moan as her clenching walls locked his cock inside her and guaranteed that he gave her every drop of his godly essence.

The feel of him inside her was better than anything she had ever experienced before, and thus, when he made to withdraw she had stopped him, told him that she wanted him to stay where he was, keeping her comfortably filled with both cock and cum.

She was immensely pleased when he obliged, simply vanishing her bonds and making himself comfortable above her.

The weight of him on her and in her was enough to lull her into a peaceful slumber, only to be awoken the next morning by the king as he steadily fucked into her, bringing her to completion, instead of the reverse.

Which is how most mornings went, after that.

One pleasuring the other until they were awake and ready to greet the new day.

No longer as sovereign and servant, but as lovers instead.


End file.
